


Sure as the stars shine above

by empires



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Crude Humor, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Schmoop, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 12:34:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8890867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empires/pseuds/empires
Summary: Dick thinks Jason should join the family for Christmas. Convincing him to come is another matter.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NitroJen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NitroJen/gifts).



> For Jen, who is amazing. Thank you for the prompts.
> 
> Special thank you to [salvadore](http://archiveofourown.org/users/salvadore/pseuds/salvadore) for making this story work.

By the time Dick finishes his post-patrol decompression rituals, Jason is nestled into the pillows, book cradled in one hand while the other circles the crown of his dark head twirling the hairs into pointy tufts. He looks approachably warm, cheeks flushed and body loose, despite going shirtless in a space that defies recommended heating guides. 

This is exactly the kind of picture Dick’s longed to come home to and now it’s his life. Some days he agonizes over what he's done to deserve this, Jason, his time and his earnest presence, but most days Dick simply enjoys it.

A single leap places Dick onto the other side of the bed. He squirms beneath the covers then begins rubbing his socked feet against the mattress. “Brrr,” he says, shuddering dramatically. “It’s cold in here.”

Gotham’s snarling winter winds beat at the windows in agreement. Beside him, Jason turns the page with a single finger. Not quite the reaction he’s looking for.

“I said, ‘Brr. It’s cold in here.’” Dick claps rhythmically. “There must be so—ack!” A small decorative pillow smashes against his face smothering Dick’s cheer and protests. He struggles until he’s weak with laughter pushing at the offending décor. Jason finally releases him after his muffled surrender.

“Some of us were enjoying an early night,” Jason says, shoving his arm back behind his head. “You know, one that’s peaceful. Quiet.”

“Some of us braved the snow—“

“It’s not snowing yet.”

“Braved the _threat of snow_ to protect our city.”

Jason snorts.

“And all we ask for in return is a little bit of warmth. Jason,” he continues, voice curling low, “I’m cold.” He can see the moment Jason stops reading. His lashes flutter slightly and his breath catches in the split second it takes to consider the angles.

“You are a fucking menace,” Jason growls then tugs Dick against his body, which is like a six-pack bellied stove radiating a comforting heat. Dick doesn’t simply snuggle into the loose hold. He luxuriates in it fitting against the hard length of Jason’s body like water against the rocky shore. Once he’s perfectly positioned—head on shoulder, arm around the waist, fingers tapping along the smooth lines of Jason’s abdomen, he lets out a contented sigh.

It’s only a matter of time before his eyes close lulled by the steady rise and fall of Jason’s chest and the quiet turn of the page. Then Jason’s fingers begin circling just below the nape of his neck where Dick’s body carries most of its tension. Steady pressure soothes away the worst knots leaving Dick to melt down like butter.

He can honestly say he never imagined their relationship would make it to the stage of fulfilling silences and co-habitation. To say the path has been rocky is an understatement. Once Jason mastered his rage and learned to voice his sorrows, Dick had to learn how to listen when Jason had something to say and then hear him, find the unvoiced fears. It's a difficult task for both of them. A shared aggressive nature and stubbornness only adds to their complicated past, but it also works in their favor. It mean neither is willing to give up on themselves or each other. And now, Dick sighs again, now he shares a home with someone whose very presence fills the deep well within him.

“Feels good, Jay,” he slurs, drifting towards sleep.

“I can tell.” Jason bends the slightest bit and presses a kiss to Dick’s crown. “Does this count as that favor I owe you?”

Dick shakes his head. “Saving that for something big.”

“How big are we talking?”

“Why tell you when I can just hold it," he pauses overtaken by a powerful yawn. "Hold it over your head and make you squirm?”

“Or I can say no right now. Save you the trouble.” Jason’s fingers dig a little deeper into Dick’s muscles working a particularly stubborn knot until it dissolves, leaving him feeling spineless. He groans in surrender, deciding that no one could hold out under these pleasurable conditions.

“I want you to come to Christmas dinner with me.”

Jason’s motions pause. “That’s definitely a waste of your favor,” he says, gently. “I’d come up with something different if I were you.”

“Come on. You say that as if I couldn’t convince you.”

“Dick, I guarantee that nothing you do is going to make me want to spend the evening at Bruce’s Christmas shindig.” Jason’s cocky tone never fails to get a rise out of Dick and the smirk in his voice sends Dick swimming up from his warm cocoon. He pushes until he’s in Jason’s face nose to nose and glaring.

“You wanna bet?”

“Yeah,” Jason challenges, fingers sliding up the back of his thighs. “I do.”

 

* * *

 

Dick wakes early the next day ready to put his plans in motion. He sneaks into the kitchen stifling his yawns with a fist against his mouth and blushes because of it. The last thing he needs is a foggy brain and lingering tiredness to give Jason ammunition against attending the family dinner. Already he's making changes to his plans. No, wait, Dick thinks grinning to himself. He's about to begin his preliminary plan.

Coffee is step one. His fingers drum along the counter while the rich scent of coffee billows in the air. Halfway through step two, drinking coffee, Dick is ready to begin the actual plan. It’s a simple one, subtle. The kind of thing Jason will either appreciate or overlook until the trap springs. Because Dick understands how hard the holidays can be with the family and without them. In fact, Dick can separate his life into those two columns, and when placed beside each other, he knows the times he’s with family far outshine those nights alone. Even though he and Jason are fundamentally different people, Dick can’t help but feel this might be the same for him.

Sometimes, stubborn people just need a little reminder.

Dick’s no chef, but over the years he’s managed to scrape together a few recipes that have been elevated from passable to tasty. Hot cocoa is one of them. And just as coffee brings Dick fully aware and onboard with mornings, cocoa works for Jason.

Since moving in with one another, the fridge is always filled with fresh items. Dick barely checks for expiration dates anymore. Like this jar of heavy cream? It still has four days before it turns. After bringing the cream to a soft boil, he add three spoons of his patented holiday cocoa powder. Well, it’s Alfred’s, but Dick adds the extra spoon for Jason’s sweet tooth. Totally his recipe.

His boyfriend wanders in a few minutes later pausing in the doorway to take in Dick sitting on the countertop heels bouncing lightly on the cabinets. Jason’s hair is slightly damp and his bare feet stick slightly to the floor. Dick smiles. Freshly showered Jason is a beautiful thing.

“You made coffee?” Jason asks, crossing the room using the gentle shuffle of the recently woken. The bottom of his sweatpants drag across the tile.

“And cocoa.” Dick nods to the mug beside the stove. “Come get it while it’s hot.”

Jason takes a long sip before setting the cup down with a contented sigh. His other hand settles atop Dick’s knee. “You’re up early. Like, ridiculously early.”

“Yeah well, I… mm. Mmm.” Dick presses into the kiss, which is soft as chocolate and twice as sweet. His fingers curl behind Jason’s neck keeping him in place when he would pull away. He always wants a little bit more from Jason. “Good morning,” he finally breathes.

“Good morning.” Jason replies, gaze sliding along Dick’s face. Whatever he finds amuses him and his tiny smile blossoms into a smirk.

“What?”

“Just thinking about what you’ve got planned for the day. Seeing how our evening ended.”

“I woke up refreshed,” he says, shrugging the insinuation away.

“Yeah. Probably because you fell asleep so early. You were a little tired last night,” Jason says and his smirk deepens. Dick really can’t pretend not to understand. He meets Jason’s eyes

“It couldn’t be helped,” he says. “I had a long day.”

“That supposed to polish up my ego, Dickie? It’s taken a bruising what with you falling asleep on me last night.”

“I didn’t fall asleep. Not like you’re implying. Not _when_ you’re implying.” Dick doesn’t want to argue, because it’s an embarrassing bit of domestic behavior they’d yet to encounter until last night. But it’s not as if Dick can be blamed. “Your magic fingers completely relaxed me. So it’s on you.”

“You’re the one who was yawning—“

“Don’t say it!”

“—when I had your dick in my mouth.”

“Okay, wise guy.” Dick knuckles his shoulder. “Keep that up and I won’t tell you my idea about your wave transponder.”

“My wave transponder?”

“Yes,” says Dick, a glint appearing in his eye. “My mind was wandering all over the place last night, if you recall, and I had time to work through that problem you were having. It was amazing.”

Jason’s face soured. “I’m sure.”

“Inspiring. Revolutionary even. It’s just a shame that I had to achieve peak boredom to get there.”

“Peak boredom,” Jason mouths silently.

“You brought it up,” Dick says feeling not at all repentant. He hops down to his feet and tugs Jason behind him. “Come on. I think I know what’s wrong with your converter sequence.”

“You know I’m going to pay you back for this right,” Jason says, dragging behind only slightly.

Dick glances over his shoulder and winks. “I know you will.” He’s counting on it.

 

* * *

 

Two hours later, Jason’s wave transponder not only works, it’s nearly doubled in range and has working spread and burst fire modes. A scribbled design for the next iteration rests beside it. Dick’s spidery handwriting runs along the margins. The notes detail their half formed questions about wave duplication, zeta targeting, and portable beam cannons.

They stand shoulder to shoulder, bodies bathed in a neon red glow as the final test runs. The wave winks out. Jason whoops and drags Dick close to admire their triumph.

“Maybe I could’ve done it without you, big bird, but it wouldn’t have been this good,” Jason says, petting the newly soldered circuitry.

Dick laughs. “Such high praise.  And here I was worried this will make you want to take this teamwork on the road.”

“You mean enter the communications market and take down the tech giants promulgating a culture of zombified loyalty in followers who prefer suckling at the teats of corporate brands whose principles are built on exploitative practices and ‘profit at all costs’ principles?” Jason looks up, right dimple showing. “Because I’m all in.”

“I can tell,” Dick says, warily. He recognizes the signs Jason gives when he’s joking and when he’s serious. Seeing both at the same time after smatter of passionate rhetoric is kind of rousing. In more ways than one. It also makes him wonder about his phone's safety.

“Relax," Jason says as if reading Dick's thoughts. "Wayne Tech isn’t on my list.”

“You have a _list_?”

Jason sidesteps the table and the question. “Thanks for the help, Dickie,” he says, catching Dick around the waist. “I know _exactly_ how to make it up to you.”

Dick leans against him. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I figure we’d take the rest of the morning and engage in America’s favorite winter past-time.”

“I know exactly what you’re talking about,” Dick says with a smile. He loves when his plans snap into place so effortlessly. “Shopping,” he says at the same moment Jason says, “Sucking dick.”

Jason blinks. “Wait. What?”

“Christmas shopping.” Dick repeats for clarity’s sake. “There’s a few things I need to get on my list.”

“You’re serious,” Jason says although his expression is asking, no, begging Dick to contradict him.

“Go ahead and change. I really do need your help on this one.”

“You want me to help you shop?”

“Yes. It’s what people do during the holidays.”

“At the last minute? Today’s Christmas Eve. You seriously expect me to believe you don’t have a gift for everyone on your list? You. Whose chestnuts have been jingling all the way since December 1?” Jason looks skeptical.

“My bells have been ring-ting-tingling since November 30,” Dick says, softening his target with a little bit of banter. “But I really need you with me for our couples gifts.”

“What are those?”

“Gifts from me and _you_. _Together_.” Dick frowns when Jason shakes his head. “Yes. And we can pick up your gifts while we’re out.”

“Why do you think I need your help Christmas shopping?”

“Two words: Bumper stickers.”

“They were classic,” Jason says, still quick to defend last year's gifts. “Personalized and able to be used year round.”

“Yes. I’m sure they were. They were also a little too on the nose. Insulting even.” Dick pecks him on the lips. “Now go get dressed, little wing. We’re going shopping. Consider it the favor you owe me.”

“You’re wasting an IOU from the Red Hood on Christmas _shopping_?”

Dick nods pushing a resistant Jason back towards the bedroom.

“Instead of the alliteratively perfect holiday head? I mean, seriously, Dickie. I’m ready to redeem myself here.”

“Yes, I’m serious.” And a pious martyr putting family first in this situation. “Also, you’re driving.”

 

* * *

 

The car windows shake from the power of Jason’s frustrated roar.

Dick pops his index fingers from his ears. “Feel better now?”

“I’m not sure if I’m ready to talk to you yet.”

“Come on. It’s not that bad.”

“We’ve been sitting on the highway for a half hour. You better have a good reason for dragging us all the way down to Bludhaven. Is the real Santa going to be there? Is this some kind of league sanctioned protective detail?”

“Points Dale isn’t even the newest mall in Bludhaven," Dick says, brushing past the sarcasm. As far as he knew, Batman and Superman's exploits with Saint Nicholas have been redacted from both the archives. Jason certainly shouldn't know about them. "I'm really not sure why the traffic is so backed up.”

“You know, what, Dickiebird. You’re right. It’s your timing that sucks.” Jason springs forward in his seat and lays on the horn. “Wait your turn asshole,” Jason shouts out the open window. He points an accusing finger at his passenger. "I'm serious though. If we're not walking into Santa's shop for these gift, I want a goddamn wintery fairy land."

They move another inch toward the exit.

 

* * *

 

Compared to the long wait on the highway, the exit clover, the multitude of lights, and the epic parking lot showdown, the actual shopping seems like a stroll in the park.

Winning a parking spot near the mall entrance cools Jason’s ire. By the time they enter the second store, he takes Dick's hand and begins returning to the quips. He also resists Dick's subtle and then pointed gift selections for him. But Jason's surprisingly solicitous when providing gift suggestions for Duke, Helena, and Harper, the three missing presents on Dick’s list.

Then they begin looking for their couples gifts.

“I really don’t know why you're so gung-ho about picking gifts together. If you want to give everyone more gifts, just do it,” Jason says but weighs in on patterns that might fit into Babs’s collection of Hermès silk scarves and offers some much needed pragmatism to Dick’s Damian inspired meltdown in the toy store.

“It’s about creating moments, Jay. He’s got so many things going on in his life right now. I just want to make sure he can look back and see experiences with his family that are outside the uniform.”

“And you think a Nerf gun is going to do that? Dick, the kid won’t even open the package.”

Dick gives the toy a little pump. “He needs this kind of thing. We just need to make it work.”

“Maybe if we tweak the firing mechanisms,” Jason says slowly. “And gift them to all of us. It’s about the experience, right?. So you’ve got to make the experience.” Jason answers Dick’s unspoken question. “The kid will actually have fun if we’re involved.”

“Alfie will kill us,” Dick says, but he’s already tossing an arrow gun and a crossbow into the cart.

“You,” Jason corrects. “I’m an innocent bystander in this.”

“You say that now, but both of our names will be appearing on the card. Besides, we can do this in the North wing. It’s got the old ballroom that opens to the lawn.”

“You mean the empty section that looks like the Beast’s lair? I can dig it.”

They return unload the first round of gifts back at the car before they circle to the reason why Dick chose this mall on this day. The entire fountain pool has been iced over and skaters circle the edges with skillful ease or cautious unease. Past the ice rink sits a small city of booths housed by local artisans, craftsmen, farmers, and restaurants. Their wares sit in proud display, lit by an abundance of Victorian inspired street lamps and white fairy lights. Above it all floats a huge, arched sign with a flowing script that reads “Winter Wonderland” engraved into the red steel.  Jason stands below the sparkling sign, face unwittingly chalant.

Dick takes Jason’s hand in his. “Shall we go walking?”

“Don’t look so smug. It makes me want to ravish you.” Jason mutters, tugging him inside.

Together, Dick and Jason make a slow tour of the booths stopping to ask questions or taste foods.

“We should really be grabbing things for everyone else,” Dick says, savoring the handmade candy in his mouth.

“You mean that fudge isn’t going to Tim? For shame, Richard.” Jason dodges Dick’s shove.

“Have you even tasted it yet?” Dick breaks off a piece of ambrosia and places it against Jason’s lips. His eyes roll skyward and he lets loose an indecent moan that scrapes up Dick’s spine.

“Fuck that’s good, Dickie.” Jason rubs his tongue over Dick’s thumb searching for a second taste. “Too good for Tim. We got to get another flavor for him. And some more for us.”

“Yes,” Dick says, feeling flushed and hungry all at once. “Am I looking smug right now?”

Jason meets his gaze before giving another slow lick. “That would be me,” he says, releasing Dick’s hand.

“Oh good. For a second there, I thought I was going to be ravished.”

“For the record? You almost were.”

They pay closer attention during the second circuit, waving at the new friends they made along the way. Or Dick waves. Jason does his little head nod. He spots the painted scrolls out the corner of his eye and directs them to booth.

“Over here, Jay. I really want you to see this idea I had for Bruce’s gift.”

The booth displays a series of silk scrolls painted using traditional techniques. The artist, Hatsue Sho, explains her process all the way down to the materials she grinds to create the paint. She drifts to another patron after bowing to Dick’s effusive praise.

“This one, Jay.” He points at the scroll hanging on the far wall. “It’s an illuminated copy of a chapter from _The Tale of Genji_.”

“I wouldn’t mind putting my name on something like this,” says Jason, ghosting his fingers over the painted warrior reaching for a sad-faced woman beneath a silvered moon. “It’s beautiful. Imagine the old man’s face when he sees something from one of his favorite artists.”

Dick can’t help but grin.

* * *

 

Getting the presents into the house and wrapping them is surprisingly easy. Jason is a precise gift wrapper who excels at sharp corners and minimal tape appearance. Together, they manage to make every gift look professionally dressed, even the modified toy guns, although they’re transferred into a few of Jason’s old weapons crates.

The sun has long since melted behind the thick patchwork of clouds. Now the gray light fades leaving a velvet darkness encircling the city.

“Snow’s going to pile up tonight,” Dick says, coming up to lean his weight against Jason’s side.

“All the more reason to get this show on the road.” Jason transfers the last gift into the crate. “You should get your things together. I’m going to grab the other gifts.”

“How do you know where my other gifts are?”

“Dickie, this place is only so many square feet. And it’s not like your closet is off limits.”

“I knew you were stealing my Dolmani tees!” He shouts at Jason’s retreating back.

Alone, he paces from one end of the den to another. Jason had been right about one thing, Dick’s timing is pretty bad with the mall traffic at the last minute to try and get Jason to the manor. Fortunately, he’s ready for his last play.

Dick tousles his dark hair and lies in wait against the couch. It’s time to spring the trap. Unfortunately, Jason isn’t as accommodating to his plans.

“Door,” he calls, coming down the stairs with a quiet thump. “This box is heavy. What do you have in here? Reactor cores? Shake weights?” It appears Christmas gifts aren’t the only thing Jason’s found.

“What were you even doing in that closet?”

“Security upgrades.”

“Snooping.”

“Sleuthing.”

“You’re a regular Nancy Drew.”

“More of a George myself, with the dark hair and everything. Disappointing since I know how you feel about titan blondes.”

Dick pointedly opens the door. “Just load the car for me, dear.”

He decides to straddle the bar chair for Jason’s return trip. It’s foolproof, really. He should have thought of it earlier.

The door swings open again and Jason comes bounding through. He pauses on one foot and gives Dick a lingering once over. Dick grins.

“Where’s your bag?”

“My what?”

“Overnight bag. I know there’s a rotating patrol tomorrow night, but you’re probably not going to spend all night in that uniform.”

Dick leans forward, forearms flexing. “Are you suggesting something?”

“Yes. I’m suggesting you pack a bag. Now.” Jason claps. “Chop, chop, Dickie. If you don’t want a repeat of our epic mall journey, you need to be leaving soon.” He swings the day’s purchases into his arms and slips through the door.

Dick glowers behind him. He’s far too stubborn to lose this. But Jason has a point. It doesn’t take long to pack up. They meet on the stairs where Jason urges Dick to, “get a move on, princess. I thought you wanted to get to the manor before dark.”

Jason trips down the stairs a third time arms laden with even more gifts. “One more time, Dickie.”

The wrapping paper isn’t anything Dick has seen before. “What are these?” he asks.

“Christmas gifts for Alfred and the batbrats,” Jason replies.

“When did you get these?”

“Unlike some people, I do my shopping throughout the year.”

“But why didn’t you…. You went Christmas shopping with me.”

“Because I owe you a favor not because I needed to. Not until you started going on about those couples gifts.” Jason winks.

Dick stares at him suspiciously. "These look like real presents."

"I’m not sure why this is so hard for you to grasp,” Jason says. “But yes, the Grinch had Christmas inside him all along. Or something like that, can you get the door, please.”

“Set the alarm before you come out.” Jason calls.

“Wait a minute.” Dick looks at him. Boots, coat, gloves, and a satchel. “Are you coming with me?”

“That’s the plan. You’re driving this time.”

Dick scrambles behind him after securing their home. Jason deigned to pull out the "second wife mobile," a luxury crossover vehicle. The seats are let down expanding the trunk space, which is needed for the abundance of presents. Together, Jason and Dick make room for the third crate of gifts.

A very important thought strikes him. “Does this mean I win?”

“Not at all,” Jason says, airily. “It means that you should’ve listened to me earlier.”

“Nothing _I_ could do to make you go to Bruce’s shindig,” Dick says, repeating Jason’s words from last night. He remembers them. “You were planning to go this entire time?”

“Yeah. Made up my mind a long time ago.” Jason tosses their bags into the back seat. “I told you it was a waste of a favor.”

“I know. That’s why I didn’t ask. I thought spending the day together, building up this thing we have. It might be enough to make you brave the family.”

Jason reaches for Dick then and pulls him into the vehicle’s shadow. “You make me brave, Dickie. In all the ways I never thought I could be." Jason confesses against his lips and then presses in rubbing their lips together softly, teasingly until Dick pushes into him with a moan.

The kiss they share is quiet as the first snowflake flying the skies courageous. “Doesn’t mean I appreciate you trying to manipulate me,” he says, pulling away.

Dick clears his throat, then his head. Jason has no right to be so self-righteous after a kiss like that. “I prefer to think of tapping into my leadership and charisma.”

“That your middle name?”

“Richard ‘I’m a Dick with Charisma’ Grayson. But seriously, Jay. I really wanted you to be with us tonight. I’m always happier with you beside me.” He smiles earnestly, honestly. "Even the most difficult things, the mundane days seem like an adventure with you.

He waits for it, waits for it and there it is. The little sparkle in Jason’s eyes when he finally looks at him, really sees him and all that is in his heart. That sparkle is happiness and Dick never feels more proud than when it happens. Jason’s lips try to flatten the involuntary smile spreading to match Dick’s own.

One day Jason won’t even try. One day, he’ll simply embrace the feeling.

Right now, Jason opens the car door for him. “Come on, Charisma. We’ve got some cheer to share.”

“Brr,” Dick shouts. “It’s cold in h—“

This time Jason kisses him silent. “Get in the car right now and I’ll let you pick the music.”

And that is the best kind of victory.


End file.
